Death in the Dream
by BeckyStar-Queenofthelab
Summary: Booth's dead and Brennan blames herself, naturally. But after a visit from him in one of her nightmares things begin to change and Booth begins to chip at Brennan's armour... B/B
1. Nightmares

He smiled as she did. He loved to watch her sleep, she was so peaceful and happy. The few times she had come round his place and fallen asleep on his couch was like an early Christmas for him. Her face seemed to radiate comfort and contentment. The slight light from the dawn sun, that crept through the small slit in the curtains, graced her perfect face and brought a mild blush to her cheeks. It outlined her face and made it more gorgeous than it was, if that was really possible. Her chocolate hair glistened slightly on her jawbone. He softly brushed the lock away and his fingers began to tickle as he touched her soft, smooth skin. Oh, how he missed that feeling. That wonderful feeling.

She suddenly stirred in her sleep "Booth," she moaned sweetly. He grinned, happy to know she was still thinking about him. He wondered what it was she was dreaming about. Why he was in her dream. He blushed lightly at the thought of it. If she moaned his name then perhaps she was dreaming of... them. _No way! Bones would never think about that,_ Booth told himself, trying ever so hard to get the image of them out of his head. He grinned from ear to ear. What if she was dreaming about that? _Heh..._As soon as her face turned sour, so did his. She seemed to be in pain and it wasn't pretty. Her eyes were squeezed tight and he could see them flickering rapidly beneath her eyelids. She gasped and a small tear rolled down her cheek and dampened her pillow. Booth's heart sank slightly. Just to see her in such pain, even if it wasn't reality, was devastating for him. "Booth," she said again, this time hurt was in her voice. _Why?_ Booth questioned himself. He became confused and worried. _What're you dreaming?_He needed to know. He knew her dreams were private but he needed to know why. Why she was whispering his name in such despair. Why she was crying in her sleep. He needed to know. He didn't particularly want to see though, because he had quite a good idea about what the dream would be. Ignoring the fear, he placed his hand upon her forehead and concentrated hard. He's never tried this before but apparently it worked a charm. _Show me your dream,_ he whispered to himself.

There was a bright, blinding, white light. He instinctively put his hand up to block the harsh light. A minute later he saw an object in the distance. It was small and round but he couldn't quite make out what it was. He looked harder and approached the object with caution. It moved as he did. He recoiled slightly in fear but pressed on, he needed to know what it was. He came closer, closer to the quivering object which he now saw quite clearly. He stopped in his tracks. _What?_ His heart sank and he shook his head to try and get rid of the horrid image that was right in front of him. There she was, huddled in a tight ball in what seemed to be the corner of the white room, crying and rocking back and forth. He recognised her instantly and a single tear fell from his pained eyes.

_Bones,_ he said in his velvet voice, yet his breath hitched slightly so it sounded strained. She raised her head slightly and screamed but it wasn't to look at him, it was to look at another object on the floor. "Not again," she cried. Booth stared at the object, trying to figure out what it was. He squinted hard and the form began to take some sort of shape. It was a person, mangled on the floor. But then he found it wasn't a person, it was a _body_. And it wasn't just any body, it was _his_ body, shot, slashed, limp and bleeding on the floor. He ran to it and picked it up. _My God, this is me…_ He shook the limp body and it merely flopped back again, bleeding immensely. _This is horrific,_ he thought aloud to himself.

"Booth," he heard her cry from behind him. He turned to look at her, she was bleeding too. She crawled across the floor, leaving a blood trail behind her. She forced one scratched, bloody arm forward, placed it upon the floor and struggled to push herself along. She was obviously in a lot of pain, he could see it on her face and in the way she moved. Every other time she tried to drag herself along a little further, she would just fall to the floor. "Booth," she coughed again, blood falling from her mouth. She finally made it to his body. She picked up the limp body and shook it. "Booth," she cried shaking the body harder. "Booth, no! Not again!" She shouted as the body melted through her fingers into a puddle of blood.

Booth could smell the blood and it smelled rancid. It smelled like metal and rotting meat. He drew back in disgust and covered his nose. _Gross,_ he breathed. _Bones, are you okay?_ he found himself saying. "What…?" Bones questioned, looking ahead of her. She held her hands out in front of her and looked at the blood on her hands, her tears fell and began merging with the red goo. "Booth?" She questioned staring ahead, her eyes darting about as if she were searching for something in her mind. "Booth I'm so sorry," she whispered. "It's all my fault," she placed her head in her hands, smearing his blood on her face as she cried uncontrollably. "It's all my fault," she said again, sobs breaking her sentence. _No, Bones,_ he sighed wrapping his arms around her shoulders in an effort to comfort her.

She stopped crying, her breath hitched and she seemed to laugh slightly. "This hasn't happened before…" she said silently. She smiled and closed her eyes. "I can feel… you," she sniffled and raised her hands up to his arms. She held on tightly, fearing that if she let go then he would disappear. "It's nice to touch you... especially when you don't disintegrate in my hands," she squeezed his arm and nuzzled her face into it. _Bones,_ he breathed. She giggled. "Your breath tickles." She stayed there for a moment longer before she turned to see him. Her face lit up.

Suddenly the white room turned in to a swirling vortex of colour before it finally focused. It turned out to be her front room, just as it always was. They were sitting next to each other, the usual Chinese and beer on the table. "This has never happened before," she said, picking up the noodles and eating as big a mouthful as was possible for her. "Hmm... I must be hungry." She seemed to have cheered up considerably. He looked at her face and it was clean. There was no blood on her, only the perfect makeup that she wore, not that she ever needed it. She turned to smile at him, a slight hint of sadness on her features. "Sorry you had to see me like that," she said. She seemed to be truly apologetic. It was as if she thought it were against the rules for her to act that way, whereas Booth thought that it was perfectly... logical. "Not that you care, as this is only a dream," she sighed and lent forward to pick up her beer. _But... I'm real,_ he said, his voice echoing around the room. "Well then, how could you be here?" She questioned taking a swig of her beer. She was avoiding looking at it, Booth knew it. /he needed her to look at him, even if she didn't want to. _Bones, that's not important,_ he said, placing a finger under her chin and turning her head softly so that she was looking at him.

"Wh-why aren't you solid?" she questioned, and he laughed slightly. _Sorry, stupid joke,_ he snorted. "You look like a..." she trailed off, unable to finish the irrational sentence. _That's not important either. What is important is…_ he moved closer to her. Her face was so close now, he wanted to kiss her, to just close the gap and press his lips against hers and finally be together. But he had something to do first. He gazed into her eyes and saw nothing but pain. _I don't blame you,_ he whispered.

Her smile faded slightly and she shook her head, he could see that the tears were beginning to well again. "Why?" she croaked. "It's perfectly logical for you to blame me," she looked at the beer and Chinese in her hands and subconsciously placed them on the table. She continued to nervously look down. _No, Bones. It's not. Because it's not your fault,_ he stated. She looked up at him and a lonely tear rolled from her eye. He couldn't bear to see her like that, every time he saw a tear his heart broke more and more. She nodded solemnly and sniffled slightly. "Booth…" she started but laughed and looked down. "There's not point in me saying anything. This isn't real. You're not real," she sighed and looked at him again, laughing grimly. "Not real." She fell on to him. Holding him tightly. "I just need a hug," she said, crying onto his shoulder. "It's not like you're going to tell anyone that I can be human sometimes," she smirked again. "You're not real, none of this is." _I am Bones,_ he tried to tell her but she was having none of it. "That's not possible. That would mean you'd be a..." she paused and laughed at the ridiculous sentence "ghost or something. And we all know that they don't exist!" Booth placed a hand on her cheek and caressed it softly. _Yeh?_ he questioned and laughed slightly. "Yes..." _Then I'll prove it,_ he giggled.

Suddenly a loud beeping pierced their ears and resonated throughout the room. "7 a.m," she breathed. "Time to wake up." _Damn it,_ Booth cursed and smacked the table. He was getting somewhere and then that freaking alarm... _Tonight... when you next sleep. I'll prove it,_ he whispered, placing his forehead against hers and smiling greatly. She returned the smile and snorted. Then the world was gone.

Everything went black and Booth felt as if he were falling or being dragged down, down. He jolted and found himself sitting on her bed, his hand still placed on her head. He looked at her, then at the clock on the side of the bed. 7 a.m, just like she'd said. Slowly her eyes fluttered open and she just lay there for a while. _Now I need to come up with a way to show her,_ Booth thought to himself.

She merely lay there for a while, her breathing slow and calm. She seemed to smile slightly at the ceiling. Booth, even though he knew she couldn't see him, returned her smile. After a while she got up out of bed, turned off the alarm and began getting dressed. Booth, being the perfect gentleman looked away as she did this and began calculating a plan. _Normally it's Bones that comes up with the plans_ he said, rubbing his temples. She turned towards the bed and it appeared as though she were looking at him right in his eyes. Her face lit up with a smile. "Okay, Booth," she breathed. He'd wondered if she'd seen him, but that was impossible. He was nothing more than a ghost now, just a fading dream.

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**A/N So there you have it :) Hope you guys like it so far, I know I do! Just in case you don't understand, _italics _are used for Booth's speech because he's a ghost. Yeh... I'll probably only continue this after my GCSEs so don't wait up haha :3**

**P.s this is all pre 100th episode. Which by the way I have now watched twice and have bought from iTunes so that I can watch it (and scream and shout at it) a few more times. Stupid rotten 100th episode in all it's glory. It was awesome but it made me cry so much. Can't wait until 101 though apparently it's good! (Here's hoping it won't depress me as much as 100...)**


	2. Figure

"Sweetie?" Angela's soft voice began to echo around Brennan's head. She was deep in thought about the night before. That dream she had… it was different than the nightmare that she had been having over the last 6 months.

It was the same nightmare over and over again. The one where she was sitting and talking with Booth as he drove them to their next location. They would be talking about whatever she was talking about earlier that day, obviously bringing the conversation up from her subconscious mind and planting it in her dream so that it had some sort of significance, making it seem all the more real.

All of a sudden there was a shot that pierced the windshield and caused it to smash. Brennan would look over to Booth and just see him sitting there, a pained expression on his face. She would look a little lower, to his chest, to where he had been shot. Then the nightmare began to flow in slow motion. She would see the blood begin to spill from the wound slowly and her tears would blur her vision.

Just then she would look out of the windshield and see a shadowed figure with a smile on his face. She felt hate towards the figure, a deep loathing. The figure would point the gun again, this time towards her. All she could do was hope that raising her arms would somehow defend herself. She knew it was illogical but she would tightly close her eyes to protect herself.

After a while of seeing black she'd wake up in the crash. She'd blacked out just after the second shot and shortly before the car had driven into a tree. She would cough, knowing that her ribs were broken. She was in so much pain. Then she would look over to the driver's seat."Booth?" She would say, looking to see if he was there. She couldn't see clearly, there was too much smoke coming from the bonnet. She would pull herself from the wreckage, through the shattered windscreen, slashing her stomach and underarms on the broken glass.

Finally she would see the body on the floor in front of her. She would recoil in fear, even though she knew that that wouldn't help. She would curl up into a defensive ball, trying to keep herself together. She would clutch at her stomach and chest as if she were trying to hold them in place, hold herself together, hold back the tears.

"Not again!" She would cry. She tried to deny it, tried to change the situation. If only she could have saved him. She would wipe her tears and cough violently as blood rose up to her throat. "Booth!" She would cry as she crawled across the floor to reach her partner. "Booth!" She would repeat numerous times to see if the body gave her any reactions. But it never did. It would remain motionless.

She would pick up the body and shake it, trying to bring it back to life. She knew that it could never worked but she always hoped that it would, hoped that at some point he would just open his eyes, give her one of his trademark smiles and rise to his feet as if nothing ever happened. But the same thing happened every time. The body would dissolve in to a steaming pile of blood so thick that it was almost black. She would always cry into her hands and unknowingly spread his blood on her face.

Then the scenery would suddenly change and she would be at Booth's funeral, seeing all of the crying ex-girlfriends and friends. But everyone would be staring at her with blame and anger written all over their faces. She felt as if their eyes were burning holes into her, like she could feel them searing her skin. They all blamed her for what happened. And quite rightly too. If Booth wasn't with her at that time, she would have been the one to get shot, not him. The man was trying to kill her anyway. The man wanted to make her suffer, it was obvious. Yet it was more clear to the killer that she would suffer more if it was a loved one of hers that was killed and not her, so he shot Booth instead. She would have happily taken that bullet if it meant not feeling the pain that she did now.

She could feel someone behind her so she would turn her head to look and see Booth there. She would momentarily feel a little better, seeing his face again. But he wasn't smiling. No, he had the same look on his face as the other people at the funeral did.

"Temperance Brennan," he would say without moving his lips, keeping his facial expression sincere. "You did this. Murderer!" He would shout, raising his arm to slap her. "You killed me!" He accentuated this by bringing his hand down to her face and hitting her with such force that she would be flung to the floor in a fit of pain. That's when she would normally wake up.

But last night was different. She felt like Booth was really there in her dream, like he was really there comforting her. She knew that it really _was_ him even though she knew that that would be impossible because he was dead and had been for six months. But he felt so warm and it all felt so right to just be there in his arms. It was nice. For the first time in a long while, she felt very happy. She never wanted that feeling to go away, but it did when the alarm interrupted her.

"Sweetie…?" She heard Angela say again. She shook her head to try and pull herself from her reverie. She turned to Angela with apologetic eyes.

"I'm sorry Ange, what were you saying?" She asked as she rubbed her tired eyes and tried to concentrate on the matter at hand.

"Well," Angela began coming over to the sofa where Brennan was sitting, "I was talking about our murder victim, Stephanie." She stared at Brennan with slightly worried eyes. "But," she sighed and flopped on to the sofa, "I'd rather talk about you." She picked up Brennan's hand and squeezed it tightly, "Are you okay sweetie?""Yeh, Ange. I'm fine. It's just," Brennan began, sighing heavily and leaning her head back in to the sofa "I haven't been sleeping well lately.""The same nightmare, sweetie?" Angela knew about it. Since Booth's death, Brennan only really talked to Angela. She felt as if she couldn't really talk to anyone else about her problems anymore.

"Yeh, but it's been more intense recently. Some times I've woken up crying." She placed her head in her free hand and wiped away her tears. She knew that she probably should, but she didn't want to tell Angela about last night's dream. She feared that if she did then for some reason she would never have the nice dream again. Illogical, right? "I'm just so tired."Angela suddenly got a great idea. She pulled Brennan into a slight hug and then quickly broke the hug again. As if she didn't want to scare her away. "Look, Bren… Sweetie. We can wrap this up here for the day if you want to just go home and sleep," Angela said in a comforting tone, making Brennan instantly feel slightly better. She could use some extra sleep actually. Maybe it would make the headache go away…

"But this case really needs solving," Brennan said, giving Angela a slightly pained look. She hated being so weak and she hated being such a nuisance. She felt so helpless all of a sudden and she loathed that feeling. She didn't want to cause any more trouble than she already was, and she knew that she was causing a lot.

"Brennan, sweetie, come on. Look at you. You have bags under your bags, you need the sleep," Angela said, laughing slightly at her remark. She put her hand on Brennan's shoulder and patted it lightly, coaxing her to get up.

"Okay… that sounds like quite a good idea." Brennan slowly rose to her feet and let the head rush subside before moving cautiously over to her coat. "Thanks Angela," she said over her shoulder as she walked out of her office.

"That's okay, sweetie. Rest well and get better soon," she heard Angela say softly. Angela's concern made Brennan feel a little bit happier yet also very glum. It was a strange mixture of emotions which she had been feeling way too often recently. She hated it.

When she got home she immediately abandoned her coat on the floor and made her way to the bathroom. She opened her sink cabinet and took out a box of sleeping tablets. She'd been having problems falling asleep as soon as she realised that every dream that she would be having would be the one of Booth dying. She walked back in to her living room and placed herself on her sofa, sighing heavily. She knew that she should do some work so she took the files out of her bag and began working on them.

That was when she felt a cool breeze grace her face. It blew the hair from her eyes and sent a strange shiver down her spine. She looked up to see where the breeze could be coming from. "Did I leave my window open all day?" She asked, making her way over to the window. When she got there, they were closed and locked. She grew confused. Suddenly the breeze came again and this time she raised her hand to try and touch it. It felt… familiar and warm. Not like a breeze, more like fingers slowly entwining their way through the gaps in hers. She drew her hand away in shock and decided it was time for bed.

She went into her room and began to undress, already feeling the effects of the sleeping pill. Yet she felt slightly uneasy, as if someone was watching her. She turned to where she felt the stare coming from and glared. The nervous feeling began to subside and she changed into her night clothes. She slowly got in to bed, dreading what was about to come. She knew it would be the nightmare. "Booth… please be real…" she whispered lightly before falling in to a deep sleep.

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**A/N Wow I had problems with writing this chapter... mostly because of the whole Angela thing. I'm not good at writing her character, I don't know why but I'm NOT!**

**I enjoy writing this a lot and my obsession with Bones just keeps growing stronger and stronger. I actually said on Twitter the other day that if Bones ever got cancelled then I'd probably have to resort to murdering people... I wasn't joking. I thought this because of what's happened with Heroes and Scrubs... but meh**

**Umm I can't wait until Thursday's episode as it is the season finale. I'm really looking forwards to it. I've heard some mixed reviews though hehe. Just one more day to go now though~**

Anyways enjoyyyy~


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